


Change is Scary

by Schediaphilia



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Blow Jobs, First Time, M/M, Mutual Pining, POV Third Person Limited, Parent/Child Incest, Resolved Sexual Tension, Sibling Incest, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2019-02-24 14:48:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13216071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Schediaphilia/pseuds/Schediaphilia
Summary: But not as scary as Bro being sick.Dave is on winter break from his first college semester and brings home germs and feelings he'd hoped he had grown out of.





	Change is Scary

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Stridercest Secret Santa 2017.

  
The moment Dave steps out of the airport, the shift in temperature shocks his skin. It's warm- hot, even- and that's absurd considering it's December 15th. He glances at the sky and superfluously shades his eyes using his hand before glancing around. Dave suddenly feels a bit stupid for putting on a winter coat before exiting, already feeling perspiration making his coat stick uncomfortably to his skin. Fantastic. And then he spots it- the beaten up white car that's been a constant his whole life. Damn, that thing was older than Dave was, but in car terms Dave guesses that's not too old. Dave waves from behind a black car-- an old woman glances at him before walking around him, a child is jumping next to him while yanking his mother's arm-- and Dave realizes there's no way in fuck Bro is going to see him in this crowd, so he resigns himself to walking over and silently thanks whatever specific deity is watching over him that Bro managed to get a parking spot that was not only easy to find, but within easy walking distance even for an abnormally sweaty man.  
  
It's short work to meander around folks and cars slowly driving by, driven by people probably looking to pick up their own family, and Dave finds himself standing outside the car with a small smile on his face. He peers inside easily, Bro hasn't noticed him-- and that's an interesting development. Instead of the ubiquitous shades normally perched on Bro's nose, stood some rather shabby looking glasses that were in no way meant for fashion. Perhaps irony, they were ugly enough, but considering Bro had his phone in his hands and was squinting, that didn't seem likely. Ah, how the mighty have fallen. Well, that's not entirely fair. Somehow Bro manages to even pull that look off, if it could even be called a look. "Walmart astigmatism chic" wasn't exactly something he wanted to rock in the near future but...  
  
Dave pauses before knocking on the window of the passenger side. You know, shitty plastic frames aside, they really made his eyes look good. Dave squints as he decides to never voice that thought and knocks on the window. And holy shit- Bro actually jumps. Dave swings open the door, not bothering to hide a shit-eating grin.  
  
"Looks like your age is catching up with you," Dave says.  
  
Bro looks at him in an expression Dave recognizes as exasperation.  
  
"Is that any way to greet your brother?" Bro's tone tinged ever so slightly with amusement betraying his words.  
  
"Can't think of a better way. You gonna pop the trunk or leave me hanging out here?"  
  
"You know what, I think after that I just might," Bro replies, with a smirk. For a moment he merely stares at Dave, one hand on the steering wheel and the other at his side, phone loosely in his hand. The moment stretches and Dave almost begins to wonder if he actually is going to just make him wait. But then Bro moves with a quiet laugh and pops the trunk, and wow it's been awhile since he's heard Bro laugh. Or talk. Or... in general. 'Cause that's what happens when you go to university in a different state and you're too cheap to use your hard-earned minutes for anything beyond texting and the occasional pizza order at 2 AM like any other responsible college student. A strange melancholy floods his chest as he closes the trunk, his luggage safely inside, and just about hurls himself into the passenger seat.  
  
Dave wasn't one to be homesick. In fact, Dave couldn't remember a time in his first semester he'd ever had an emotion he'd describe as homesick. If anything, he was happy to be a in a new environment even if it was way too god damn cold. He was living in a dorm on campus, located in a relatively quiet suburb which took adjusting to, to say the least. It took awhile to adjust but he never felt this strange nostalgic melancholy, and he wasn't really sure how to deal with it as he buckled up. Dave likened it to seeing a childhood toy for the first time in years, pulling it out of a box and brushing off the dust and this strange painful happiness filling your chest. Because it's only natural the teddy bear ended up in a box, even though you'd loved it a long time ago, because people change and get older and life pulls you apart. Dave stares hard out the windshield as Bro takes off the glasses.  
  
"Shouldn't you... you know be wearing those to drive?" Dave asks but isn't particularly worried about dying in a car accident today.  
  
"Nah. Just for reading."  
  
Dave raises a brow and feels a tiny spike of anxiety as the car sputters to life, but before he can voice any more concerns he has, they're moving and WELP. Time to decidedly not think about it.  
  
"How was your exams?"  
  
Dave unzips his coat, fumbling with the seat belt, "Fine, I guess. I get my grades online next week."  
  
Bro nods and it's really weird to see him without his shades. Dave hates it. It makes him think of teddy bears lost in boxes and Gameboy cartridges with corroded contacts. Dave manages to find some relief after he awkwardly pulls his sticky arms from his coat and only strangles himself a little bit in the process .  
  
"So? Think you passed?"  
  
Dave almost wants to start laughing because this is really weird. It was too formal and it was too _normal_ , this wasn't their normal banter. It's awkward, but he shouldn't really be surprised. They haven't actually spoken to each other outside of texting and email for just over three months, of course it's weird. It's weird to disappear from someone's life for three months and just pop back in, it's weird to miss three months from someone else's life. A lot can happen in three months. Like Bro needing glasses, apparently. Or the wrinkles under Bro's eyes Dave swears weren't there in August. And it's staggering for a moment because Dave feels a strange crushing sensation- he hasn't changed at all. Dave thinks of puzzles with missing pieces tucked under beds, of curled dust-laden crayon drawings.  
  
"Got your birthday present at home," Bro says suddenly and Dave realizes he just never fucking answered his question. Smooth, good job, now Bro probably thinks he bombed and is too embarrassed to even reply. And if he says he did fine it will sound fake and defensive.  
  
"Oh, cool, thanks-" Shut up, do not say anything, shut up, "Just so you know I did fine. I think."  
  
ARGH. WHY DID HE SAY THAT.  
  
Bro's eyebrows raises for a moment before he's wearing a neutral expression again. He thinks Dave bombed, holy shit.  
  
"I mean- I studied all night and-" why was he still talking?  
  
"And I handed in all the homework-"  
  
"Relax. I'm not going to kick you out if you fail."  
  
Dave can't hide the disappointment on his face when Bro affirms that he totally thinks Dave failed.  
  
"We can get you into trade school or something," Bro continues in a tone Dave thinks is supposed to sound comforting and supportive and parental but all he feels is embarrassment.  
  
"Hell, you could help with my sites or somethin'."  
  
HAHA, NO. Dave barely holds back saying, 'Well, hopefully it won't come to that.'  
  
"School isn't for everyone."  
  
Oh my God, please stop talking.  
  
"Dave, if you need something, you know you can tell me, right?"  
  
Dave smiles because he suddenly cannot process anything at all. Bro hasn't pulled the "responsible parent" card in years and he can't remember the last time he's been called his name and not a nickname and something about this is suddenly suffocating.  
  
"I'm fine!"  
  
Dave bites his tongue too late, the outburst still fresh on his lips.  
  
"I'm fine, really," he adds and wow, yeah, good job, he's totally gonna believe you when your voice fucking cracks like that. Great job, as usual.  
  
Bro's eyes dart over to him, brows raised for a good few seconds, and he purses his lips.  
  
"Kay."  
  
Dave silently regrets taking off his coat because right now he had a very strong urge to shrink down inside of it and pretend it was his new home, one where he didn't make an ass of himself every five seconds.  
  
"You feeling alright?"  
  
"Yeah, just fu- fine."  
  
"Uh huh. So you gonna tell me what's got up your ass or am I just going to have to guess?"  
  
Dave breathes out in relief because finally there's some semblance of familiarity.  
  
"Dunno, maybe you need to gather up an ass excavation team."  
  
Bro breathes out a quiet laugh, "Oh man, must be some deep shit if I need to hire an excavation team."  
  
And it's like everything is normal again all at once, they fall easily back into old habits like nothing changed. What started as slow, foreign, and agonizing quickly becomes familiar and comfortable. They chat idly, jabbing at one another every so often the entire ride home and it feels all too quick to Dave when they pull up the apartment complex.

 

But as Dave follows Bro inside, luggage dragging behind him, something feels off about the hallways. They seem more quiet. A bit more cramped, perhaps. Dave finds himself peering at the rails of the stairs as he drags his luggage behind him- plastic wheels smacking into cement with every step since he's too lazy to carry it properly- and notices for what seems for the first time the chipping paint underneath the hazy white light of the stairwell. Has it always been like this? He's unsure. Has Bro always walked up the stairs this slowly? Or perhaps this fast- Dave wasn't really going to gauge him on athletics thirty minutes after coming home. It's not like he wasn't as fit as he remembered. Maybe a bit more tired, but three months didn't do that.  
  
No, the wrinkles under his eyes, the glasses tucked in his front pocket, the almost imperceptible slowing in his gait had all been there when Dave had left. Bro was getting older. Dave felt sick suddenly. He thought of worn cassettes that go un-rewound and forgotten underneath CDs, he thought of CRT monitors gathering dust in storage units.  
  
And by the time they were stood in front of the familiar door to their shared apartment, Dave was gripping the handle to his luggage a bit too tight, palms a bit too sweaty even despite his abnormal warmth.  
  
Somehow, once again, it faded all at once for quiet relief and familiarity when Bro unlocked the door. It was the same as he remembered it, more or less and it was incredibly easy to chuck his luggage onto the futon and then immediately collapse on top of it in a heap.  
  
"Not gonna unpack?" Bro asks, but Dave is pretty sure he doesn't actually care and is just making conversation.  
  
"Nah, I was planning on just living out bags and off of caffeine and starbursts," Dave replies, ignoring the fact his shades are currently arching diagonally on his face due to the fact his head is against the rough fabric of the luggage bag.  
  
"So, the normal college diet then?"  
  
"Bingo."  
  
Bro stretches arms up over his head, hands interlocked and- whoa, he ditched the gloves too. Weird. Dave stares, not really on purpose but because it's hard not to stare as Bro stretches in front of him idly, not when his t-shirt is pulled up just enough to expose skin, muscle, and just a bit of hair and-- Wow! The floor is suddenly incredibly interesting!  
  
And Dave realizes all at once that he hates this because Bro has changed and yet, Dave? Dave is the same. Sure he has some more knowledge tucked into his skull, but what does knowing the fundamentals of organic chemistry really amount to in the long run? That didn't matter anyway, because even if Dave had changed, he didn't change in the way that mattered most and that was that he still had a crush on Bro. Which, is fine, it's whatever. He could live with that. What he couldn't live with was the fact that "absence makes the heart grow fonder" bullshit was actually legit. Or maybe it was "absence makes the dick grow longer" considering his current reaction to merely being in the same room with him.  
  
Dave decided you know what, actually, he's going to go unpack and quickly retreated to his bedroom. He unpacks and then sits on his bed for a good thirty minutes just staring at his phone despite the fact the screen is off.  
  
When there's a knock on his door, Dave definitely doesn't jump.  
  
"You hungry?"  
  
Bro peers in and despite Dave wondering since when the hell did Bro knock before opening his door, he answers, "Yeah. Guess so. Didn't really eat before I left."  
  
"Pizza good?"  
  
Dave nods, "Can't think of a time pizza isn't good."  
  
And then Bro leaves and Dave is plunged once again into silence.  
  
It is at that moment Dave notices a shiny bag on the his desk, small enough for him to not notice immediately but shiny enough to make him feel pretty dumb for not noticing immediately. Dave is drawn to his feet by the realization a gift laid in waiting only a few feet in front of him, and quickly found himself peering inside- looks like a game. Dave can't help his excitement as he pulls it out. He also can't hide his confusion and disappointment when he finally processes it. It's a game for a console he, and last thing he knew Bro, doesn't own. He kicks off his shoes under his bed and wanders out and locates the console nearly immediately on the television stand. He feels weird for not noticing the addition. It must be Bro’s birthday present to himself, he realizes as he holds the plastic case awkwardly in his hands.  
  
"Figured we could play together," Bro says from behind him.  
  
"Play together?" Dave says slowly, heart speeding up slightly as he tries to process Bro's words.  
  
"Yeah, it's multiplayer."  
  
Oh. Right. The game. The fucking game Dave is literally holding in his God damned hand.  
  
Dave sets up the game and only spends five minutes puzzling out how the new console works and it's weird and it's new but when Bro sits down next to him and grabs the player 1 controller it seems to just click into place. It's a racing game, which they weren't strangers to in the slightest, so the few matches spent while waiting for the pizza were as fierce as normal. Cheese burned the roof of Dave's mouth as he curled up while they watched shit on Netflix, hours passed by while the pizza box laid on the worn coffee-table its contents growing colder and colder with each episode they watched. And by the time Dave went to bed, strangely exhausted despite having done almost nothing all day, it felt like everything was back to normal.  
  
A day slipped by, and then another, spent alternating between being perched on the couch playing games or laying in bed on his laptop with Bro's occasional presence.  
  
Dave slips out of bed, and can't help but smile. It's been three days, and finally everything feels normal again. He doesn't have to worry about classes, he's not overheating, Bro and he aren't being awkward anymore. Everything is just like normal. He meanders into the kitchen well past noon and pours himself a bowl of cereal. He eats hastily, wanting to get in some more hours so he can thrash Bro tonight when they play again, and deposits the bowl into the sink and starts playing. He's getting better, he can beat the CPUs consistently. He decides it's time to go up against the internet: online play. He get soundly thrashed five times before he turns off the game and sulks into his phone and notices something alarming.  
  
It's five PM. That on its own wasn't that alarming, the progression of time wasn't exactly foreign to Dave. What was alarming was the fact Dave had been playing four hours without seeing Bro once. Did he leave to go shopping or something? Maybe he'd woken him up to tell him and Dave just didn't remember. Dave eyes Bro's bedroom door. There's no way he's still sleeping, right? Bro liked to sleep in, but this was really pushing the boundaries on what "in" meant.  
  
Dave finds himself standing in front of the door before he even processes he's walking to it. Gently, he pushes the door open, and words cannot describe the feeling he experiences when he notes with due alarm Bro is, in fact, in bed.  
  
Dave walks closer and tells himself it's not because he's making sure he's still breathing. He looks a bit too closely at Bro's face, his body. He can't stop himself before he's by the bedside, a hand in front of Bro's nose and- Dave feels far too much relief at the feeling of breath against his hand for a man not checking if someone is breathing.  
  
"Hey."  
  
Dave casually jumps out of his skin.  
  
"Sorry, not feeling good."  
  
"Yeah, no shit," Dave answers curtly to Bro's quiet apology, "you could've told me."  
  
"Didn't wanna bother you," Bro answers.  
  
And suddenly Dave remembers how the night before last Bro went to bed a bit too early, how last night he'd seemed distracted and perhaps even a bit pallid. Dave is kicking himself and has the distinct urge to kick his brother as well because Dave should've noticed and Bro should've said something.  
  
"You've been in bed all day, you need to eat something," Dave replies unable to hold back, "Have you even had anything to drink today?"  
  
Bro's reaction of kind of groaning does not ease Dave's temper but it does replace it with a stronger feeling of worry.  
  
Dave studies him- he's definitely looking pale. Rosy cheeks, eyes unfocused despite looking directly at him, shallow breathing... Yeah, Dave isn't sure why he didn't notice. Maybe it just got worse overnight?  
  
Dave frowns hard and stalks out of the bedroom and locates the largest glass they own- a novelty Beavis and Butthead mug- and fills it with water. He pauses and rustles through a drawer, and places a bendy straw in it. He figures it'll be easier to handle that way. He brings it into Bro's room and places it on the floor next to the bed.  
  
"Drink all of this. I'm going to find you some food."  
  
Bro's brows are raised and Dave isn't really sure what to think of the smile on his face.  
  
"Seriously?"  
  
Dave doesn't know how to answer. He wants to say, "Just let me do this," but that's really fucking cheesy. So instead he opts to just stare at him with a pointed expression in hopes he gets it across that he is not amused.  
  
Bro is seeming a bit more lively than just minutes prior, probably due grogginess, and Dave could see from where he was standing sweat glistening on Bro's chest as he awkwardly cradled the stupid mug to drink the water. Okay, the mug was a bad idea but it was too late to go back on it. Besides, Dave needed to figure out something to feed him-- oh, huh, uh. Hm. Dave stares, contemplating whether to tell Bro he'd shifted his comforter aside just enough to reveal to Dave the fact Bro had taken to sleeping nude. Or maybe it was just a one-time thing. Considering he was sweating his balls off, that sounded reasonable.  
  
Bro is still awkwardly sipping from the mug when he glances up at Dave.  
  
"What? You gonna make sure I don't choke to death on water?"  
  
His words are slow and a bit forced, but it's clear he's more lucid than he looks. But when he places the mug back down and lays back, his body sags. As if any exertion is an ordeal... Which would explain why he didn't even get out of bed to eat.  
  
"Don't waste your energy on being a dick," Dave answers, "But if you keep it up, yeah, maybe I will stick around to watch you just to make sure you don't drown on your own saliva."  
  
"Threatening a man when he's sick? That's low."  
  
Bro is smiling but his eyelids are fluttering, as if he's barely managing to stay awake. And maybe he is. It's hard to tell. A mix of worry and intrigue rises in Dave as he watches Bro fall asleep within a minute, comforter still haphazardly askew on his legs. Should he... cover him? Is that weird? Weirder than standing at your naked brother's bedside and staring at him in contemplation? These weren't questions Dave was prepared to answer. Dave decides fuck it, if he's going to be playing the part of doting sibling he's going all out. He's this fucking close to singing a lullaby. He carefully replaces the comforter and retreats from the room to look for something to feed him.  
  
It occurs to him humans need about 1000 calories a day minimum to live and Bro has had 0. So he starts digging in cupboards and it takes twenty minutes to unearth a can of chicken noodle soup. Okay, that's a start. He's not really sure if Bro is nauseous but he's pretty sure he's heard somewhere toast is good for sick people. He thinks that's a thing. He's almost certain it is. But they don't own a toaster. There's a frying pan but the most adventurous culinary experience Dave had was making Kraft dinner in the microwave. 

Dave looks between the can of soup and bread, lips pursed. He considers jumping onto his laptop to ask his friends but quickly dispels that idea. There was no way he could reveal he had no idea what he was doing. Dave knew exactly what he was doing, and he told himself this as he attempted to toast bread. He also told himself be meant to burn the fuck out of the last five pieces. Better start meaning to make toast for real here, he's running low on bread at this rate. 

 After Dave achieves two pieces of edible toast, he prepares the soup. After burning his fingers taking it out of the microwave, it occurs to him there is no flat surface near Bro's bed for him to rest this on as he eats... Dave really needs to start thinking this shit through. He's kind of frazzled, if he's being frank, and it shows as he awkwardly stands over Bro with two pieces of toast in hand as he shakes him awake as gently as possible.  
  
Bro opens his eyes slowly, groaning again because he probably really doesn't want to be awake right now but he's just going to have to deal with it until Dave has shoved at least 400 calories into his mouth. Dave shoves the toast in his face and explains eloquently, "eat."  
  
Bro stares at him and doesn't move. Dave just sort of waves the toast a little. A few crumbs land on Bro's face. Dave is feeling really fucking dumb. Bro makes this guttural sigh and sits up slowly, limbs moving very slowly compared to normal. Bro takes the toast out of Dave's hand and with an unreadable expression begins eating both of them at once. Well, okay, that works. Dave has a feeling he's trying to be rebellious, but it's still giving Dave what he wants so he doesn't really care.  
  
"I made you soup too," Dave says, not sure why he's watching him eat. If Bro asked he would say he was making sure he didn't choke, but in reality he was just sort of.... watching. In an intrigued but concerned way, and totally not in a weird sexual way or anything like that. Dave just liked watching his lips, the way they moved, the way they glistened slightly reflecting the light attempting to shine through the blinds-covered window.  
  
"What, you gonna feed it to me?" Bro asks in between bites of double-toast.  
  
"Maybe I should," Dave answers, "wouldn't want you to drown on it."  
  
This is getting kind of morbid. They should probably both silently agree to stop talking about Bro dying.  
  
"My knight in shining armor," Bro answers after swallowing the last bits of toast. Huh, that was fast. He's probably hungry. Or maybe he just wanted Dave to leave him alone. Both of those options were very likely.

 

When Dave retrieves the soup and returns to Bro's side, there's several moments where he's not sure if he wants to actually follow through on his threat. But then Bro looks at him and this breathy laugh leaves his mouth... And then his mouth is open, waiting. Welp, no backing out now time for some super fucking affectionate and platonic doting sibling action. Dave wills his hand to stop shaking, this really isn't the time for this, and settles on just kind of kneeling by the bed and spooning a small amount of soup into Bro's mouth. Dave isn't really sure why his heart speeds up when Bro's mouth closes, the pressure of his lips pushing slightly against his grip on the spoon.  
  
The only thing Dave can really do in between spoon-feeding him is, well, look at him. He's either looking a touch better or Dave is letting his sudden caregiving persona go to his head. He looks tired, really tired, which is accentuated by dark circles under his eyes. Dave suddenly feels really bad for waking him up. No, no-- he needs to eat. Dave isn't really sure entirely of what he's doing but humans, as far as his knowledge goes, need to eat, preferably, every day.  
  
Dave tries not to think about how weird this whole situation is around the time half of the soup is gone and tries even harder to not think about the fact Bro is totally naked right now and Dave is almost 100% sure he knows it. (But why would he care, they're siblings, they've seen each others junk before waltzing out of the shower and shit. Dave was the one being weird about it.) Dave thinks at some point they started playing a bizarre game of chicken, to see who would get tired of this faster, but neither of them were really letting up. Somehow, against all odds, they manage to keep the game up until the soup is entirely gone. Dave would be impressed if he wasn't still hung up on the whole "Bro looks like he's dying and I sort of have a boner," thing. So he ends up standing up and just sort of staring again, spoon hanging limply in his hand.  
  
"Thank you darling, whatever would I do without you," Bro says lowly, words slow and a bit slurred. The game has changed, and Dave isn't sure when it had. Oh right, the knight thing. He guesses he is now the doting knight and Bro is his sickly princess. Hm. Dave decides to never think about that again.  
  
"Do you have a fever?" Haha, what the fuck was he asking, of course he has a fever why is he like this-  
  
"Oh, you gonna help me sweat it out?" Bro smiles, eyes tired but playful and Dave suddenly cannot breathe for several moments.  
  
"Maybe I should," Dave finds himself answering out of reflex before he can stop himself.  
  
Neither of them speak, both regarding one another. Bro with a curious but exhausted amusement and Dave with a quiet mortification.  
  
"I'm going to get you some Tylenol," Dave finally speaks and rushes out, ignoring the fact his cheeks are burning. He puts the bowl and spoon in the sink and lingers in the kitchen for about five minutes longer than necessary before grabbing the promised Tylenol from the bathroom.  
  
Dave dispenses two into his hand and places the bottle back, and walks as slowly as possible on the way back in.  
  
"Tylenol," Dave explains as he shoves it into Bro's hands.  
  
"Thanks."  
  
There was no joke attached. Maybe that meant Dave had won their game of chicken. For once, victory didn't taste that sweet. Dave turned and went to leave, resolving to give Bro lots of time to sleep and maybe check on him in awhile if he was still asleep.  
  
"Dave," Bro spoke just before Dave could exit the door in a bit of a rushed grunt. Dave paused and turned back to regard him. Bro was sitting up, comforter down around his waist, chest glistening with sweat.  
  
"Thought you were going to help with my fever."  
  
Dave stares and is suddenly not entirely sure where the game starts and ends. Perhaps there was an interpretation of "sweat it out" Dave simply wasn't aware of. Maybe this was a misunderstanding? Boy, Dave would certainly have egg on his face if it turns out he is misunderstanding what should be a totally platonic interaction.  
  
“Cumming makes your fever go down," Dave blurts out with an awkward lilt, as if midway through the sentence he regretted saying it. Because he did.  
  
HAHA WHY THE FUCK DID HE SAY THAT. THAT'S NOT EVEN TRUE. HE'S FAIRLY CERTAIN HE JUST MADE THAT UP.

 

What was supposed to be a clever but sexual joke to further test the situation instead came out as the most blunt and terrible non-joke Dave could’ve said in this or any reality. In this case “test the waters” became “hurl yourself in head first and hope for the best” and currently Dave was fucking drowning. Several moments that were far too long for any mortal to stand stretched out between them and Dave was convinced he was going to literally shrivel up and die on the spot. But then Bro smirked.  
  
"I'm open to holistic remedies," Bro said slowly, enunciating each word.  
  
Oh. Oh, holy shit this is a thing that is currently happening. Dave feels a bit dizzy as he processes this development. There was literally no other way to take that, Dave jumped head first into incest lake and Bro dived the fuck in right after. On one hand, he was as elated as any normal 19 year old upon discovering the object of his lust reciprocated. On the other hand, the object of his lust is his brother who is currently looking about as dizzy as Dave feels despite lying down.  
  
But Dave understood in that moment that he had two choices here. His choices were 1. flee and pretend it never happened and 2. kiss him. He supposes there are more options available, that one just sounds really nice right now. The choice is obvious. Or it’s incredibly obvious to his dick at least, and in that moment his dick was taking precedence.

 

Which is why and how Dave finds himself straddling Bro’s hips, pushing his chest against his. He could feel the warmth emanating from Bro through his shirt, he paused for a moment and look at Bro’s face. And unvoiced, “Is this okay?” was proposed, and Bro’s answer was a shit-eating smile that said, “Let’s see what you can do.” Dave decides to show him he can kiss off that stupid smile, his fingers curling in Bro’s hair in a tight grip before diving in lips-first.

 

At first- Dave pauses, a small shiver running down his spine at the contact. It’s not like Dave’s a virgin, he’s done his fair share of fooling around, but this was different. This was Bro and with that was a dense entanglement of distorted memories and emotions. It didn’t feel real when he deepened the kiss opening his mouth and hoping Bro would follow suit. When Bro did Dave ran his tongue along Bro’s and there was this sudden burning, irresistible spark that lit in Dave’s gut. Dave is suddenly filled with a primal desperation at the sensation, a moan spilling into Bro’s mouth as he pushes against his body harder and supports himself with his hands against the wall.

 

There’s fingers in his hair, pulling it and he would love it if not for the fact those fingers with pulling him away from Bro’s mouth. Reluctantly, he allows himself to be pulled back and breathes heavily. Dave must look confused because Bro pushes him back before explaining, “Neck,” in a pained voice.

 

It takes several seconds for Dave to process before he puts together that, oh yeah, shoving someone’s head at an angle on a wall probably isn’t very comfortable for them. But Bro doesn’t seem upset, even while trying to readjust into a position where his neck isn’t being crammed into a 90 degree angle. Dave ends up staring down at Bro, aviators threatening to fall from his face, while Bro lays on his back looking much more comfortable with his head on a pillow. Dave isn't sure how to continue because, first of all, he was currently straddling his hips and while Bro was re-adjusting he'd taken to throw off the blanket entirely. Second of all, Bro was running his hands over Dave's ass, squeezing through the denim. And third of all, which was the most pressing issue Dave was currently facing, was the fact that something thick and hot was throbbing against his thigh as he tried to reposition himself to accommodate Bro.  
  
"Gonna take your pants off or just going to tease me?" Bro speaks with an amused lilt to his voice.  
  
Dave thinks if this was a dream, he would already be ripping his pants off ready to hop on that dick, but this isn't a dream and suddenly Dave is nervous because Bro is bigger than either of the two toys Dave had experimented with. Somehow, Dave didn't think the best way to love his anal virginity was riding a man who was so feverish his eyes were unfocused. Plus, like, what if he passed out? That'd be a boner killer. (Actually, now that Dave thought about it, maybe he shouldn't be right up in someone's grill when they're sick. Dave didn't particularly like the idea of being too sick to get out of bed but that train had sailed.)  
  
"Just going to tease you," Dave replies and plays off his nervousness by rolling his hips. Bro makes a quiet moan and Dave immediately falls in love with that sound and is already devising hundreds of ways to hear it more when Bro runs his hands up, pushing up Dave's shirt as his fingers trail of Dave's lower back.  
  
"Kinky," Bro answers, and stares up at Dave. Like he's waiting for something. Bro's hands run down again, this time to rub at Dave's thighs and Dave realizes with a heady feeling that Bro is admiring him. And it's suddenly like Dave can do anything in the damn world, because he's sexy but more importantly he knows he's sexy.  
  
"Hmm, actually, let's postpone the teasing," Dave says as he slides downwards in one smooth motion, re-positioning himself so his head is in-line with Bro's dick, "We need to get that fever under control, not make it worse."  
  
Bro laughs and actually smiles and runs his hands through Dave's hair, "Oh, thank you doctor, what would I do without your help?"  
  
Dave wonders briefly as he assesses the "situation" with his hand just how lucid Bro really is.  
  
"Die," Dave assures him, "but luckily for you I'm prescribing you 30 cc's of prime dick-sucking action."  
  
Bro actually laughs despite the fact Dave is slides his hand up his dick in a loose grip, creating a strange mix of laughter mixed with quiet pleasure, "Shit, dude, where the hell did you go to medical school? You can't measure dick-sucking in cc's."  
  
"Trust me, I'm a doctor," Dave replies and twists his hand on the down stroke, shutting Bro right-the-fuck-up. It's at this point that Dave decides that's enough dicking around and leans in sticks out his tongue and glances up past Bro's erect dick. He makes eye contact with Bro as he angles his dick and presses his tongue flat to the base and drags it up to the tip in one spine-shivering lick. Bro mutters a breathy "fuck" which is accentuated with a noise of exasperation when Dave pulls away.  
  
"Relax, taking off my shades so you don't jizz on them," Dave explains as he does exactly that.  
  
Dave hadn't really been attempting to tease him, he just realized halfway up Bro's dick it'd be sort of awkward to keep them on. Dave puts the shades next to them on the bed and licks his lips before leaning back in, purposefully breathing a steady stream of air onto the tip of Bro's cock. Dave admittedly doesn't have much of an idea of what he's doing but he's seen this shit in porn and it was hot there so he figures it'll work in real life, right? Bro seems to be into it, judging by the quiet groan he makes before curling his fingers in Dave's hair, perhaps to keep him in place so he can't pull away this time. Or more likely, it's just because he has nothing to do with his hands and Dave is running his tongue along the underside of the tip of his cock and he's a little overstimulated. Dave likes the first idea better.  
  
Holding the base of Bro's cock, Dave opens his mouth and descends slowly, making sure to purposefully brush his tongue along the underside on his way down. He breathes hard when it brushes against the back of his throat, swallowing around Bro as he begins sucking lightly. Dave twists his head and rolls his tongue as he slides his head back up and is immediately rewarded with the sound of Bro moaning his name. Dave feels dizzy as he does the same thing on the way down, not sure whether to feel embarrassed by the sound his mouth makes as sucks Bro back inside or aroused by it. His dick knows how to feel, and that feeling is largely positive, so Dave presses on.  
  
This is his usual go-to in the rare occasion he's been presented with a dick to suck and he knows he's good at it since he's been told so. Albeit by almost-virgins like him, but that still meant something, right? Dave knows that enthusiasm is roughly 80% of the battle, and Dave has enthusiasm for fucking days as long as Bro keeps mumbling his name like that. He continues slowly, fully aware this much stimulation must be on the verge of overstimulating if not crossing the threshold. Dave has plenty of time to listen as he works head up and down, watching the way Bro's body moves- hands tightening in the sheets, stomach muscles twitching. Dave would smirk if his mouth wasn't currently full of dick, feeling more than a little proud of himself when Bro pushes his head down, hips jutting up into his mouth. It wasn't rough, just urgent, and Dave gets the idea.    
  
Holding the base of Bro's cock a bit more firmly, he places a hand on Bro's thigh for stability and mentally prepares himself. Dave dives down, pushing him into his mouth as deep as he can without gagging and sucks, and if it had been anyone else Dave doesn't think he'd be embarrassed by the wet slurping noise that comes out of his mouth. But this is Bro, this is Bro's dick, and the thought makes his own dick throb despite the blush spreading on his face as he endeavors to continue back down, then up, at a quicker pace. Bro's fingers tugs at Dave's hair and Dave yelps, a heavy and deep groan rising from his chest as saliva begins to run down his lips. Okay, rude. Bro doesn't seem to notice or care he's being rude though, considering the fact his head is tossed to the side as he breathes so hard Dave can see his chest rise and fall from this angle.  
  
Dave's jaw starts to ache, but it's easy to ignore in comparison to the painful ache in his pants. Dave fights against the urge to unbutton and unzip, to palm himself greedily to completion while sucking Bro off if only because it's fuck up the rhythm and they'd need to change positions and God dammit he didn't want to ruin this. Whatever this was, he didn't want it to stop. So he ignores his discomfort and sucks just a bit harder and decides to stop giving a shit about the wet noises coming from his mouth, the saliva that was now dripping down his neck and braces himself with both hands on Bro's thighs and dives in. He gags quietly, willing his throat to stop being a bastard and just work with him, and breathes to steady himself.  
  
"Fuck, kid," Bro says in a deep but breathless tone, making Dave glance up at him as he slides up, then down, working him deeper with each thrust. Bro's fingers are still now, curled in his hair which is in contrast to Bro's steadily rocking hips that move with Dave's lead. Dave swallows around Bro's cock when he notices the fact Bro is staring with him with an expression Dave can't really place. Pupils dilated, lips parted, eyes unfocused despite never leaving Dave's face. But then his fingers tightens, Dave can feels muscles tensing under his own hands, and knows even before Bro grunts out an urgent, "Gonna cum," exactly what's coming. (It's Bro.)  
  
Dave continues sucking, skin tingling at the thought what was about to happen- Only to be tugged away, Dave grunting from the pain of being pulled away bodily by his hair. Dave feels warmth- warm and wet on his cheek and instinctively closes his eyes because fucking really, dude?  
  
"Shit," Bro mumbles and Dave isn't sure if it's out of satisfaction or because Bro just realized he'd made a mistake. Perhaps several interconnecting mistakes.  
  
Bro's grip loosens immediately and Dave nearly lets his head fall.  
  
"I warned you," Bro mumbles.  
  
Dave raises a brow when he realizes what just happened, "I heard you."  
  
"Oh."  
  
"Yeah, if you want to spare someone your splooge maybe don't tug their face right over your dick."  
  
Bro breathes hard, and Dave tries to hide the fact that the situation despite being annoying was admittedly pretty hot. Dave glances around for something to wipe off Bro's cum and settles on the comforter because fuck it, Dave did Bro a favor and Bro could reap the consequences. As Dave wipes his face Bro readjusts, sitting up, but neither of them say anything. What do you really say after something like that.  
  
"You okay?"  
  
Dave looks at Bro like he's crazy, "Uh, yeah I think I can handle some manseed to the face."  
  
Bro is running a hand through his hair, pushing it back, and Dave realizes he didn't mean that by the serious expression. Bro is still breathing hard- longer than it should take him to catch his breath, considering his build, and looks even more out of it.  
  
"I should be asking you that," Dave changes the subject, "you're the one who's sick."  
  
Bro seems satisfied with the non-answer.  
  
"Looks like you owe me," Dave continues as he stands and puts his shades back on.  
  
Bro laughs in a single breath outwards, so quiet Dave almost didn't hear it. The sound makes Dave relax despite not knowing he had been tense at all.  
  
"Guess so," Bro replies and slides back down, not bothering to cover himself as he curls his arm around a clump of blanket. Dave wishes he was the blanket, wishes Bro's arms were around him. But then he realizes what just went down and decides, fuck it, why not? He unbuttons his pants and as he's unzipping, Bro looks at him, eyebrows raised.  
  
"Need some help?" Bro asks when Dave pushes down his jeans and briefs to reveal the fact he's still very much erect. Dave begins to pull up his shirt- only to get it caught around his shades. Holy shit, why did he put these back on. He fumbles for what feels like forever before managing to pull the shirt off and catch the shades before the fall to the ground in quick succession. He finds the closest surface, a drawer, and places his shades down before crawling into the bed before he can start second guessing himself. By the time he starts second guessing himself, Bro is smiling down at him with tired eyes, the tinges of amusement in his voice as he speaks a quiet, "Guess doctors need a check up now and then too."  
  
Dave is tired of the doctor shtick and finds himself unsure what to say because suddenly this is a lot more intense. They're not even doing anything, but Bro's body heat is radiating off of him in waves and he's just looking at him with this pleased expression. So Dave decides fuck speaking and brushes his fingers through Bro's hair and smiles before tugging.  
  
"Payback, motherfucker," he whispers before he pulls Bro down hard, their lips meeting in one hot and heavy haze. Dave feels faintly like he's someplace else, because he's almost certain he's not here when Bro kisses back and runs his tongue over Dave's lower lip. This entire experience is so fleeting and surreal Dave feels like if he blinks he'll miss it, and he's terrified that once it's over, once they wake up from whatever dream they're having together, everything will return to normal. Dave digs his fingers in Bro's hair and moans into his mouth, pushing his hips forward and shuddering with a quiet whine when his dick brushes against Bro's stomach.  
  
Dave pushes his chest up again Bro's, relishes the feeling of his too-hot flesh against his own and doesn't even mind the sticky feeling of sweat. Bro's hand is grazing down Dave's side, and Dave can't stop from shivering, can't stop from whimpering when Bro bites his lower lip and-- Dave pushes his hips hard against Bro's hand when it grazes over his erection. Dave doesn't have to say, 'please,' for Bro to understand the sentiment. Dave backs up immediately to give Bro more room to work with and trembles, his body instantly melting on contact when Bro wraps his hand around Dave's dick. Dave turns his head and moans into Bro's pillow when Bro's hand moves, jerking him off in a loose grip.  
  
And Dave realizes too late that he's a lot hornier than he thought he was, his breath coming out staggered between moans as he wraps his arms around Bro and whispers, "Gonna cum," in a wavering voice. Then it's hot- way too hot, and Dave can't breathe because Bro is jerking him off faster, and his stomach is coiled so tightly it burns.  
  
"Bro," Dave groans in one short breath, his body stilling all at once. His forehead falls against Bro's, their eyes meeting. Dave twists his body, writhing under Bro's touch with another hurried whimper-- and it's over, Dave is arching his body against Bro's and can't stop himself from moaning in Bro's face, eyelids squeezed closed. His dick throbs, once, twice, each spasm sending a splash of cum in between them and forcing quiet gasps from Dave's wet lips.  
  
His skin is still tingling when Bro reaches over him, still tingling when a blanket is pulled on top of him. Dave opens his eyes, sees Bro wiping his hand off on the cloth.  
  
"Thanks," Dave says breathlessly, not really sure how to handle this situation.  
  
"Pleasure's all mine," Bro answers in a quiet voice, throwing an arm over Dave. Dave opens his mouth to speak, but Bro's eyes are already closed, his arm feels so heavy on him. Bro's hot skin is a strange comfort, so Dave moves in closer and lets his own eyes close.  
  
Bro was exuding an energy that said, 'Okay, we're done? Good, now shut up.' Or, that's what Dave imagined his energy was. Dave wills himself to sleep because despite his humming mind, his body is exhausted. Dave isn't sure how long it takes to fall asleep, and is unsure how long he slept when he feels movement next to him. Dave blinks his eyes opened, leaning up in confusion. The room is dark, and for a moment Dave isn't sure where he is. He's not in his dorm, and he's not in his room, so where the hell was he? Dave moves to stand, and is momentarily perplexed as to why he's naked. Then he knocks over the stupid novelty mug that's on the floor, sending a liter of water onto the carpet and it all comes back to him.  
  
"Fuck," Dave mutters when he realizes he has to take care of that now. Ugh. Dave throws on his briefs and ventures into the kitchen in search for paper towels. He can hear water running, can see the yellow light from under the closed bathroom door. It's dark outside, but that doesn't mean anything at this time of year. It could be anywhere from 4 PM to 7 AM. Dave locates paper towels next to the microwave that's blinking 11:37 and returns to the room to clean up the water. He half-asses it and decides it's good enough, dragging the mug and straw back out to the kitchen and places them in the sink. That's a problem for future Dave. Right-Now-Dave had other plans, and those plans involved curling up back in Bro's bed and resisting removal until the last possible moment. He curls back up in the warm bed, sighing contently.  
  
It smells like him, Dave supposes, and it smells great. He bundles up some of the blanket and curls around it, deciding to pretend to be asleep whenever Bro came back and overestimated his ability to pretend because he shortly fell asleep for real.  
  
When Dave's eyes blink open again there's light trying to glow into the room from behind closed blinds and an arm wrapped around him, a warm breath blowing against his hair. Dave, well-rested for once, realizes his surroundings quickly. Somehow Dave hadn't expected Bro to come back to bed while he was there. Maybe he'd migrate to the couch, maybe he'd push Dave onto the floor. But instead Dave was held in a loose grip. Dave doesn't want it to end. Even still, his neck hurts a little in this position so maybe if he just readjusts a little-  
  
Bro shifts, arm tightening around his slightly before being pulled away entirely. Dave turns onto his back and looks at Bro, whose eyes are half-open.  
  
"Hey," Bro says in a voice so laden with sleep Dave isn't sure if he's actually talking to him.  
  
"Hey," Dave answers.  
  
Dave looks at him, feels his heat against his body. He seems a little bit less pale, maybe a bit less overwhelmingly warm.  
  
"Thirsty?" Dave asks as he gets up.  
  
"Mmm," Bro says in response and Dave decides to take it as a yes.  
  
Dave gets dressed and looks for a more suitable vessel to serve water with. He finds a dusty, forgotten water bottle and cleans it out and fills it up with cold water. He places it next to Bro's bed and stares. Somehow, his heart feels heavy as he looks at his face, sees the wrinkles forming under his eyes.  
  
Dave sighs quietly and tugs at his sleeves. He resigns himself to leaving the room and closing the door and he hates it, because this means it's over for real now. He couldn't keep clinging to the idea of continuing the experience by refusing to leave. He plays the game but he can't focus on his, not really. A part of him is elated and a part of him is convinced he just fucked everything up irreversibly. He plays a tug-of-war with himself- but he came back to bed! But that doesn't mean anything you were in his bed! But he kissed you back! But he could barely stay awake!  
  
Dave is digging his fingers into the controller so hard his fingers feel like they're about to snap when the door opens. Dave freezes momentarily and then hastily returns to playing, still mid-game.  
  
"You're up early," Bro says as he sits down next to him, the water bottle in his hands. Dave can't be sure what time it is by now, if he had to guess, maybe noon?  
  
"Feeling better?" Dave asks without looking away from the screen.  
  
"I don’t feel like a slug, so that's progress."  
  
The match finishes, Dave came in 7th place. He stares at the "Do you want to play again?" screen.  
  
"About last night--"  
  
Dave snaps his head to look at him and Bro stops mid-sentence in favor of looking at him.  
  
It's quiet. Seconds elongate into what feels like minutes, the chipper music of the game a stark contrast between the two men.  
  
"How long?"  
  
Dave doesn't immediately know what Bro is asking, and once he processes the question he's not sure how he should answer.  
  
"Awhile."  
  
"What are we talking? Days? Months?"  
  
"Years," Dave grunts in response, feeling on edge.  
  
Bro sighs hard, arm slipping around the back of the couch as leans back. He closes his eyes.  
  
"I want to do it again," Dave says when Bro makes no sign of speaking.  
  
Bro sighs again and crosses his arms, hands tense on his forearms.  
  
Dave drops the controller onto the floor when Bro doesn't respond further, mouth dry as he crawls on top of Bro's lap, legs on either side of him. Bro lets him, his arms unwinding to allow his hands to grasp at Dave's sides so gently Dave thinks Bro is worried he's going to break him. Dave is looking down at Bro, Bro biting his lip and looking back up at him.  
  
"Do you want me?" The voice that comes out sounds foreign but Dave knows it was he who asked because Bro's mouth opens, but for several moments no noise comes out. Hovering over him, Dave can feel a lingering, radiating heat from Bro.  
  
"What?" Dave asks, a spike of fear ringing in his chest, suddenly finding it difficult to breathe. The facts added up, and Dave hated the answers they pointed to. He was still feeling like shit, but dragged himself out of bed-- what, just to bring this up? And he’s not answer, why isn’t he answering why isn’t he--  
  
Bro's hands grasp Dave's sides firmly at the sound of his voice, the alarm in his face, "Shit, that goes without saying. Relax."  
  
"Then what's the problem?" Dave demands, feeling breathless as his heart beats in his throat.

There’s no answer. Bro tightens his grip on Dave’s sides, and they linger, staring. Bro gently rubs up Dave’s side, sliding underneath his t-shirt and somehow the touch is like a sedative, as if the touch alone is all Dave needs to know he didn’t fuck up.

Bro’s hands move downwards slowly, rubbing loose circles into Dave’s flesh, stopping only to rub up and down the sides of Dave’s thighs. Bro is staring down now, away from Dave’s face, lips just slightly parted. 

  
"If you're _sure_ you want this," Bro begins but his voice meanders off. He doesn't finish speaking.  
  
Dave readjusts and pushes Bro onto his back before he can protest and lays on top of him.  
  
"Relax," Bro speaks again and despite it being the same word from just a minute prior it takes on a whole new reason when spoken between laughter.  
  
"Come on, get off me," Bro continues. Dave relents and awkwardly pulls himself up.  
  
"I thought we agreed that I owed you," Bro says when Dave glares at him. When the words hit him, Dave relaxes instantly, allowing Bro to direct his body.  
  
This time, it's Bro who's moving downwards, kneeling between Dave's legs. This time it's Dave's fingers curling in Bro's hair, tugging experimentally. Dave thinks of blond hair, tan skin, and tired eyes.


End file.
